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I lean down and rasp against her ear, “Break up with him.”
Once again, we’re in a compromising position, with her boyfriend less than a foot away. Just like last time, Kota doesn’t shy away from me. In fact, she turns her head toward me, making our mouths dangerously close.
Our breath mingles like old friends. We’ve been here before. Many times. I was respectful and didn’t push because she was in a relationship. But that relationship ran its course, and I’m just getting started.
I close the distance, kissing Kota the way I wish I could’ve last night. Parting her lips with mine, I sweep my tongue between them, showing myself around inside the mouth I plan on becoming very acquainted with.
She melts into me immediately, her upper body arching toward mine.
With a handful of those blonde locks, I’m just pulling her closer when she rears back.
I flick her top lip with my tongue, inviting her to come back for more. I don’t care that her boyfriend is right there. I’ll kiss her so deeply she’ll forget he exists.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t accept. Instead, her body jerks, then she’s hefting the suitcase past me.
Back out to him.
“Can you wait for me outside?” she asks Guy.
“Hurry up. I don’t want to be stuck in traffic all day.”
As soon as her bedroom door closes, Kota returns to the closet.
Eyeing her as she picks up my shirt, I push away from the wall.
“Why didn’t you break up with him?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is. You tell him he’s a cheating piece of shit and to kick rocks.”
“But I don’t know that he cheated. A two-man? I’ve never even heard of that and I doubt he has either.”
“He fucking knows what a two-man is. Every guy does.”
I step toward her to finally finish what I started, but she lowers her gaze, effectively closing the door on this, on us.
Fuck that. I’m not losing her over vocabulary.
“Kota. If you believe that, why’d you kiss me?”
“You kissed me,” she says quietly, her fingers stroking my side and giving me goose bumps. Louder, she asks, “What happened here?”
I glance down to where she’s rubbing.
Shit. My bruise. I forgot all about that. Of course it looks a hundred times worse than it did last night.
“I ran into something.” A fist. And I didn’t run into it. I was punched with it. Repeatedly.
Fucking rib shots.
“You’re always injured…like Rocky.”
The comparison hits a little too close to home for my liking but I don’t react whatsoever, only say, “I told you, I can take it.”
She meets my eyes again, revealing a window. It’s only cracked but it’s enough to slip through.
“Break up with him.”
